Hurt
by Loadedxxamo
Summary: Mikan Sakura- a girl who suffers from extreme loneliness. She wouldn't have to be alone, infact she would have many friends if she only wasn't so used to being bullied. If she stood up for herself she wouldn't be invisible. If she told the police how she was neglected and abused at home she would be living a better life. If she just was so shy she wouldn't be terrified of jocks.
1. Prologue

It's dark. Thick pools of spiraling darkness. I cry out so loud my throat throbs each time. "Help me! I'm tired of being alone! Help me..." No one came. No one ever came. Not when I was little and not now. If the darkness had eyes I swear it was staring me in the face. I heard this repetitive ringing, and I woke up to my alarm. My eyes drifted open but I still felt dead. I wasn't a morning person and being in this house didn't make it any better. I turned my head to see the rest of my room. The other girls in my class probably had pink furniture and multiple chargers plugged into their outlets. I had a black sleeping bag and a uniform. Being the only child you would think I was spoiled. I barely even got food on my plate. I was depressed by my wooden floor and plain white walls but I ignored it once again. My routine was to get out of bed and go downstairs. My body knew what to do and my pale feet shifted all the way to the oak door with a beat up copper coated door knob. The knob was always freezing cold but it was slightly warmer today. Which meant he watched me sleep not to long ago. I felt the urge to wrap my self up in my sleeping bag because up my spine had a feeling creeping it's way up to my neck. I could have tripped on my non existent multiple school uniforms but they weren't there. I sleep in my only one. When the little urge went away I stepped through the door way. No morning greeting? I normally got a slap to the face as a wake up call. Peering through the house they were asleep. Not a single sound was heard. Only me creeping through my house. I felt like a thief since I had to tip toe through the entire thing. I skipped breakfast and ran home free through the door. The next stop on my routine is to go to school, which was almost as bad as home. It was brutal. Each day I felt like that if someone stabbed me I would feel an eruption of joy from where the blood was spilling. Bullied at school, and I neglected at home. But whenever I get noticed it feels like it brings pain. Do you know what it feels like?

Do you know what happens everytime my mom tells me to come here? Do you know the sleepless nights filled with my silent sobs? Do you know the pain of knowing as soon as you wake up it's going to be a thousand times worse than your nightmare? My name is Mikan Sakura. I know what it feels like.


	2. Chapter 1

I couldn't go to sleep. It was another night I was awoken by a nightmare. I wish I stayed in that nightmare. To put it simply I was killed in that dream. The murderer, my mother. She finally got tired of my wretched face, my attitude, how I mouthed off, how she never saw me cry,and how I didn't even bother to tell anybody what she did to me.

I silently slipped my pale hand through the dark of the night. If my hand hadn't been so white the darkness would have swallowed me like a blanket. I had one large bruise on my elbow, and a scar on my wrist. It was three o'clock a.m. and I was remembering the first and last time I cut.

I was sick of it all, and I wanted to chose my own fate. Because for some reason I had an idea that I should chose my destiny, that I should get a fair chance. What I didn't know that anybody who saw the scar would never give me a chance. Quietly tears formed when I remembered the pain. I had used the knife that was for sharpening pencils. I thoughtlessly sliced my wrist and dealt with the blood alone.

As strange as it sounded I didn't regret seeing the blood flow. I didn't regret it until the adrenaline subsided. Pain surged through my wrist in constant flow. I didn't think I was scared of blood until I caused myself to bleed. All the times my mother had hit me, my father pulled my hair and raised me up, all the kids who stared at me and snickered, and I too joined in on beating myself up.

If I cut more would the pain gradually be endurable? Should I just use a jump rope at school to end it? Because I know my parents wouldn't lay aside money for my weapon. But they would get what they want. They would win, and I hated loosing. I took my opposite hand and carefully dragged my fingers across the scar.

In my fantasies somebody would ask me who had hurt me. There was only me. "Who hurt you?..." I whispered softly. I started to choke on my words. "Me." I couldn't stop it any longer. I took both arms and leaned them against the ground. I had pinned my fists down and I was fully crouching on the ground. My mouth opened like I was screaming but it was all in my head. Tears streamed down like it was a river.

I remembered what my mom said when she had saw the mark. How she called my dad in and they laughed. They taunted me saying I should have gone all the way, and next time to tell them and they can help make plenty more cuts.

My silent screams were causing me to choke. It all hurt so much. The bruises lining my stomach, the cut along my ankle. They were careful enough to leave no bruises on my face or arms or even my legs. How careless they were when cutting my ankle. I expected more. I wish I didn't expect. I wish I had the courage to come forward. I wish I didn't skip P.E. because I was afraid of what the other girls would say when they saw my bruises. I wish I wasn't scared. I wish I didn't have to endure it alone!

And before I knew it, it was 6:30 and I was supposed to be getting ready for school. My tears were dry and my eyes were no longer puffy. I soothed myself by stroking my cheek and no longer thought about the scar lingering on my wrist. It was flashing itself to me but I was only concerned with what I thought was a slowly twisting door knob. Just yesterday my father had watched me sleep and I was grateful he hadn't this morning. Neither of my parents had seen me cry in last two and half years.

Two and a half years ago it was my first time finding out my father watched me sleep. I cried openly and there was blood to pay since I cried all night and nobody could sleep. Since then I got use to the chills that followed his eyes. But I hated the feeling I got whenever both my parents would slowly turn the door knob. Like they wanted to creep in without me knowing. Look over what I was doing. As if checking to see if I had killed myself yet.

I mean I did cut, but suicide it's what they probably dreamed about. The days when- I didn't have time to think my mother walked in. She stayed silent and only did I know my father had entered too when he yanked my hair up with his dirty hand. "No good mornings, darling?" He sneered as my mom stood back basking in my agony. "Sorry did I hurt your feelings? I didn't think you remembered me since you never gave me food last night." I gritted my teeth as I spat words out. I was terrified but we would be here all day if I didn't back talk now. My mothers eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. "My poor baby. Honey give her some food." She said with a voice oozing forced sweetness. But how unlucky for me.

I get breakfast from my dad. He released my hair and I fell to ground. It wasn't new. He rose me up by my wrist and dragged me through the house. The broken beige lamp splattered with my blood, the kitchen I rarely got to see, and the old television I longed to watch with a normal family.

I saw it blur past me as my dad led me outside. It had rained recently I could smell it in the air, and my bare feet could feel the mud. "Get ready to eat up." I braced myself after his words. He let go of my wrist and for a moment it was peaceful. Then he struck like lighting and pushed my face into the mud. I didn't have time to take a shower and I had to get to school. Muddy.

He crackled throwing his bald head back as he walked inside. I pushed myself up and groggily walked back into the house. Turning around in place no one was home. They must have ran out in case I screamed. But they should have learned by now I wouldn't give them the pleasure.

I peered through my beat up living room to spot my baby blue back pack near that dusty leather couch. A back pack that is seven years old is better than none. I was softly wiping the mud off my hands and picking the dried remains off my face while I was walking. It was silent besides the noises coming from me.

I could hear my heart beat, my shoes clicking the side walk, and small thuds from peeling chunks of dirt off of me. It dried incredibly fast and I wasn't for sure if that was a good or bad thing. I doubted I could get passed anyone with this muddy uniform. I was for sure rumors would be flying, and I knew the root of them to.

I had a small disagreement with a girl before school had started, and unfortunately she was a popular girl who did not enjoy me avoiding her eyes. I didn't look in people's eyes while talking and she did not like that one bit while she had asked for directions. She also didn't like me accidentally giving her the wrong directions.

So because of me being stupid I get bullied in school by a selected few. I braced myself as I walked passed the tree directly a block from the school. I combed through my hair before entering the grassy school yard with my fingers to put it into a tight bun. It was hard with scraps of dirt floating through but it would have seemed suspicious if I didn't put my hair up like every day. I could have gotten accused for liking somebody or worse they would try to do my hair. So I took a deep breath and told myself I would be ok.

I was wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

I always feel like I'm caged. Like I was cursed with a good looking face and annoying parents. I will always stand by the fact nobody has a worse life than me. Nobody else has to deal with girls constantly talking about you. I doubt anybody else has such strict parents.

My name is Natsume Hyuuga. I am living a nightmare. I have quite a few girls after me and I hate them all. I hate them! I hate them! I hate them! Maybe I could enjoy living my life if it weren't for my parents. I swear my parents didn't even want children when they had me.

All my parents ever do is ground me. I have no freedom. I wish I had Ruka's parents. Ruka rarely ever gets grounded. I get grounded almost every six months for stupid reasons. So what if I fail one test? It's not gonna affect me! Grounded for getting into a fight? That's retarded! I'm a teenage boy obviously I'm going to get into fights! So stupid...

If only I hadn't been born. My life sucks and I really wish I hadn't been born.

I pushed myself up with my tan arms. My bed sheets were boring and I bet the other kids in my school had better sheets. I also bet the other kids had a bigger tv than my thirty inch tv. They probably got to have clothes scattered across the floor. My parents made me clean my room.

For some reason I highly doubt I really have to go to school today. You can be absent every once in a while. I groaned as I flopped back down as tugged my black pillow over my head. "Get ready Natsume!" An old lady yelled through my house. Do you see how noisy it is? I growled as I threw my pillow at the wooden door. "SHUT UP!" I yelled back and got up from the sheets that were swallowing me.

I was tan because I have played sports all my life. Another thing I hate. If I wasn't so athletic maybe girls wouldn't like me as much. So when I stumbled upon a mirror and saw my abs I just glared at my body.

I have a stupid uniform too. It's maroon, black, and gold. It looks like a suit and I doubt anybody would want to feel like they are wearing a suit. I pulled it over my head and pulled up my black pants until I could button them over my underwear. "Natsume! Get down stairs now!" Some old hag screamed. I hate how loud it is. I hate life. I hate school. Nobody has a worse life than me.


End file.
